Love & Deceit
by eicosanoids
Summary: "Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic." Clara Oswald is teaching 19th Century British Literature. She thinks handling a bunch of undergraduates will be easy pickings compared to everything else she's experienced in her life. She would've been right until the Doctor joins her class. (Professor Clara & Student 12 AU)
1. Chapter 1

It was the fifth- no sixth time that Clara had reviewed her lecture notes for the day. Not that there was a lot to lecture about given that it was the first day of classes. No introduction to Dickens' works or Wilde's for that matter, no in depth discussions about the autobiographical nature of fiction or the politically charged commentary of some of the finest works…

Really, she shouldn't even be stressing. It was 8:25 am so there was a little more than half an hour before students would flood the lecture hall. She still had plenty of prep time, not that she needed any. She could recite the curriculum in her sleep by now and she had never been afraid of speaking in front of an audience.

Clara's hand subconsciously moved to her pile of course outlines, brushing against the words on the page. "Clara Oswald – Associate Professor" Reading the title still made her heart swell in pride. It had been rewarding to move up in the ranks despite the fierce competition. But she had a knack for persuasion and her passion for English literature really did propel her forward in her career. Although to be fair, it might also have something to do with the retirement of the past professor for the course she was now teaching.

Teaching wasn't new to her; she had been a teaching assistant throughout her studies. But lecturing to an entire hall of students was a different experience altogether. Taking a deep breath, she started to skim her notes again; it couldn't hurt to be over prepared after all. Yet she had barely passed the introduction when the sound of the doors opening caught her attention.

Looking up, she furrowed her brows at the newcomer. A student? No, he couldn't be, he looked too old to be taking this class which was meant for third years. Besides, it was still 8:40. Class wouldn't start for another twenty minutes.

He wasn't a caretaker either; he wasn't wearing the orange uniform. No, he was decked in a dark navy coat, a flash of red showing from the inner seams of his coat as he walked. She caught his eyes as he walked towards a seat near the front and she sent a sheepish look towards him. Oh God, she had been staring too intently at him, hadn't she?

Yet it didn't seem to faze him. If anything, he smirked back at her as he took a seat in the front row. He was sitting directly towards her now but hasn't spoken a word. It was eerie silent as the clock ticked away and she looked away from him and went back to her papers.

Should she say something? She could comment about his lack of a bag, was he that confident that he could remember everything she was going to say?, but before she could even open her mouth, another pair of students walked in. They were proper students, joking and jibing at each other and looking far younger than the older man seated in front of her. Clara heard a passing comment about Austen, reassuring her that she was in the right lecture hall.

Maybe he was a mature student. It was fairly uncommon but it wasn't unheard of. Many did end up going back to get some additional schooling. Learn something new to match wits with the youngsters.

Unless of course, he was actually an auditor to see how well she taught. The thought of being examined deeply unsettled her. The knowing look that the man was giving her from the corner of her eye made it even more suspicious.

Clara had no idea who he was. But she didn't have much time to think on the situation when students slowly began to trickle in as the time approached. There were a few students who were sitting in the front who were giving her some looks but she ignored them in favor of smiling warmly at some of the shyer students who walked in. She didn't need to give them her attention. Yet she couldn't help but look towards the front row at a few times, sneaking passing glances at him. He looked bored and unlike the rest of the students making conservation, he seemed to be in his own world. Lost in space.

9:00 signalled the beginning of class. With a sharp cough to catch everyone's attention, Clara began. The sea of students looked intimidating now that she was aware that everyone was looking straight at her. But it gave her a jolt of adrenaline, enough for her to smile and begin.

"Welcome to 19th Century British Literature. I hope you're for a ride."

* * *

><p>An hour seemed to pass by in a blink of an eye and after quoting a line as encouragement to her students, the students slowly began to dissipate from the classroom. With a breath of relief that she hadn't messed up, she began to tidy off.<p>

"The answers you get from literature depend on the questions you pose."

The Scottish accent startled her as she lifted her head, trying to find the source of the voice. Sure enough, it was the older man. He was still seated, tapping his finger against the table.

"Margaret Atwood. Canadian. Interesting, I thought this was a course in British literature."

Clara took a momentarily pause to process his words. It completely caught her off-guard. Quickly recovering, she shrugged her shoulders almost nonchalantly. "Well, I appreciate a good line, regardless of who said it. And it could encourage the shy ones to ask more questions. Maybe even you."

He raised an eyebrow and Clara was astonished at how expressive they were. "Perhaps I will," He replied back as he stood up from his seat, brushing the sides of his coat back to reveal the red. "I'll see you in two days, Dr. Oswald." Two days until her next class when they were going to begin The Picture of Dorian Grey, Clara realized. Not that long until classes really began and she'll see him again.

"Wait!" Clara's mouth moved before she could think. "What's your name?"

The man paused for a moment on his way out, turning his head slightly to one side to reply. "The Doctor. Just the Doctor."


	2. Chapter 2

"Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic," Clara said as she wrote out the line across the blackboard. Dusting the chalk off of her hands, she turned around from the board to look back at the class who were furiously copying her notes.

Except of course, the Doctor. She was a bit peeved by his enigmatic answer; there was no one named Doctor on her class list. And of course, her class list didn't include the ages of every student; he could very well be Thomas Elliot or James McShane or even John Smith.

The Doctor was the only student who wasn't writing. He was seated in the front as usual in a comfortable position with his legs stretched out and his arms crossed across his chest. If it weren't for his owlish eyes watching her, she would have thought that he wasn't even listening.

But he was and she tried not to think too much about it. "Can anyone in the class tell me why Lord Henry decides to express this particular thought?"

There was a moment of silence before hands begin to shoot up. She was about to pick on one before someone spoke out loud. Someone with a distinctive Scottish accent.

"Same reason as anybody else would say it. A dark secret lies behind every great beauty." The Doctor said as Clara swiveled her gaze towards him. "We have a fascination for anything that's tragic or revolting that's masked by perfection."

"But at this point of the story, Lord Henry knows only so much about Dorian's history. Isn't he too quick to judge him at this point?" Clara questioned, glancing at the rest of the class. Some seemed to share her thoughts but others seemed to have been drawn to the Doctor's explanation. Not that she found it wrong but –it wasn't the direction she wanted the dialogue to head towards. "After all, he could very well just be a normal, beautiful-"

"Maybe there is no such thing as perfection. Maybe Lord Henry is smart enough not to delude himself with misconceptions of a being who can be utterly perfect in every aspect without ruins trailing behind them. What if tragedy was the most normal part of a human life that perfection is the abnormality? The greater the perfection, the greater the tragedy. The greater the secrets." The Doctor met Clara's gaze fully this time and she felt completely trapped by his look.

"A question for you, Dr. Oswald. Do you believe you're perfect? "

Whatever small talk that was happening in the lecture hall completely stopped. She was caught completely off guard, in the silence, with the Doctor's waiting gaze focused directly at her. It was embarrassing to say the least. For a moment, she felt as if her control of the class completely slipped from her fingers and landed in the Doctor's waiting hands.

What was he trying to do? Snapping out of the heated gaze, Clara gave a stern look towards the Doctor.

"Speak to me after class," Clara snapped and she instantly tore her gaze away from the Doctor, not wanting to deal with his insolence anymore. She didn't want to lose her temper, not since it was only the second day of classes. "Now, moving on. On the topic of tragedy in relationship to Dorian…"

* * *

><p>When class ended, she let out a shaky breath of relief when people began to filter out. She had managed to continue the rest of the lecture flawlessly, assigning enough work to hopefully keep her students out of trouble for a while. Hopefully, but she doubted that analysis of novels were going to keep them away from drinking the weekend away.<p>

At least she had the weekend to rest even if the students weren't going to. The Doctor's remark completely threw her off for a moment, causing her to lose her balance and direction of what she wanted to teach. It was an unsettling experience to be one upped by someone else; it was a rare occurrence for that to happen for her. She was a fast talker and able to formulate ideas and arguments more effectively than most people she knew.

Catching her off guard was not something she experienced commonly. Nor liked for that matter. But it seemed that with the Doctor in her class, it was going to be something she had to prepare for.

A loud cough shook her out of her thoughts as she turned away from her packing to stare up into the face of the Doctor.

"You said to speak to you after class?" He prompted, placing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "So speak."

His behaviour really ruffled her feathers and Clara tried not to let her expression show her lack of amusement. "I would appreciate if you could keep discussions in the class strictly related to the novels we discuss. If that's all fine with you, Doctor." She tried, really tried not to spit out the last word.

But it seemed to have amused him more than anything. "But it's quite alright to have discussions unrelated to the novel outside the class?" He asked. Clara raised an eyebrow at his statement, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I meant."

"Whatever you decide to do on your own time is completely up to you. You can discuss the merits of drinking tea or coffee while reading your assigned novels for that matter." She replied back curtly, slinging her bag across her shoulder. She was so looking forward to leaving and getting away from him. Except as a professor, it wouldn't look good to just leave a student standing with their questions.

If only that didn't apply to all students.

He seemed pleased by her reply though as he stepped to the side, clearing her way. "Then, I suppose that's a fair topic for discussion someday then. But for now, since we're outside of the classroom…"

Clara closed her eyes. Really, she should've expected this.

"Do you believe you're perfect?"

"Why does that matter?" Clara retorted back, her patience diminishing by the second. She spinned to face the Doctor directly, wanting to give him a piece of her mind. "I don't see any reason to give you an answer to that question. Or even why you're asking that in the first place."

"Curiosity killed the cat," He said readily, not even fazed by her snappish response. If anything, it made him more persistent. "And you'll give me an answer because you're the kind of teacher who wouldn't leave their student in the dark. Lost without answers."

Clara stared at him for a good few seconds before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, have it your way. Maybe I think I'm quite good at what I do. So what does that mean to you?" She had a fair bit of confidence on her shoulders and while she wouldn't flaunt it out, if the Doctor wanted her honest opinion he was going to get it.

"Then that means you have a story to tell as well." The Doctor smiled at the exact moment Clara froze at the realization of what she had said. Except she didn't have a retort handy as the Doctor spun around, already headed out of the door.

"I'll see you next week, Dr. Oswald."

* * *

><p>She didn't expect him to show up outside of class either. Her office hours had been neatly printed on the course outline but she didn't expect for anyone to show up in the first few weeks of class. Generally from what she had heard from the other professors, students only came before the midterms and the exams.<p>

So Clara was completely invested in editing one of her manuscripts, completely deaf to the rest of the world. Except, the smell of coffee grabbed her attention –no one on the floor drank coffee- and then a series of four knocks on the door.

She feared the worst and it came true when she lifted her head. And there he was. Still dressed in the same navy jacket as the past two days –did he not have an exciting wardrobe? She hadn't even invited the man in but the Doctor took the eye contact as an invitation to come in

"You suggested this last week. Discuss some of the readings with coffee or tea. I figured coffee would be a good start," The Doctor pushed one of the cups towards her, along some packets of sugar and milk.

Clara just stared, dumbfounded. This was not what she was expecting.


	3. Chapter 3

"Well…thank you." Clara wasn't used to being caught off guard as she took the cup of coffee. It was still warm when she added one packet of the offered sugar and milk. There must have been something against the code of conduct of accepting food from students, she wondered offhandedly to herself. But then again, it was just coffee. And a frequent lifeline of her's in many cases so how could she refuse?

Taking a sip, she appraised the man in front of her carefully who had slid into the free seat across from her desk. She felt the prickle of her skin when she was adding the milk into her cup, and smirked slightly to herself. She didn't miss the rapt attention he was giving her and she tried to hide the look on her face by taking another sip.

"So are you here just to offer me coffee? Just for future warning, if you'd like to gain a good impression on me, chai tea is the way to go." Her words must have snapped him out of her stupor because he was almost –embarrassedly- trying to look anywhere but her. It was almost cute.

"Well, good to know if I ever need a mark booster," He jibbed back in return, recovering quickly to nurse the coffee in his own weathered hands. "Still the same, one milk and sugar?" He didn't try to pretend that he hadn't been watching her.

"Neither actually. Well, maybe a touch of honey if you're being creative."

He cocked his head towards her for a moment, meeting her eyes at her comment and smiled. Clara couldn't help but return it, chuckling inwardly to herself before she set her cup to the side. "Alright," She decided that the teasing was over. "What brings you here…?"

"Doctor, just the Doctor," He said before hastily adding something at the dirty look she was giving him. "Look, I don't want to be singled out from the rest of your students for bringing you some second rate coffee. That would make a terrible impression."

"Only second rate? Wow, you really need to up your game if you're trying to gain favors," She replied back, trying to look disappointed.

"Well, I only take people out for first rate coffee when it gets serious." At that statement, Clara raised her eyebrow at him but he didn't even flinch. Was he…? The "Doctor" merely sat there with a gloating smile, infuriating her to no ends.

In any case, she rolled her eyes, pretending that his comment didn't really matter to her. "Must be difficult then, I wish the poor sod who goes along with you good luck." For a moment, it looked as if he was about to retort before he settled down for a grumble.

"In any case, I'm here because you seem uninterested in exploring the merits of literature outside of…literature." Before she could protest, he continued. "I'm not saying your discussions are too narrow, they're quite good actually. I thoroughly enjoy them; you really do cover a lot of depth into the material. More than I expected actually which is saying something. But there's so much more to literature than what meets the eye. The…applicability of the written text to our lives, for example."

"And you consider yourself to be an expert?" Clara frowned, leaning forward on the desk to appraise the Doctor carefully. "Because if you were, you really should have taken the semin-"

"Oh no no no," He held up his hands in an almost surrendering pose. "I was recommended to take this class by someone I know. She used to teach the class but I guess not anymore." Clara's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Dr. Song? Oh that's surprising –I didn't know you knew her." She, herself never got to know the woman well except that despite her breadth of knowledge of all of the different subjects (she had a degree in practically every field), it was always archaeology that drove her interests. Clara would hazard a guess that Dr. Song was probably halfway across the world on a dig during her retirement.

"She is," The Doctor responded before Clara realized she had said the last part out loud. "In Greece. She says she's enjoying the weather if you're interested. But yes, we knew each other for some time. I settled around here because she was nearby but then she decided to pop off and go back travelling," A displeased frown appeared on his face for a moment. "So guess the timing didn't work out."

"Where were you before?" Clara blurted out, curiosity tinging her words until she caught herself. "I mean, since it sounds like you came here quite recently." And she was incredibly curious to learn about the "Doctor". A wizened man who was taking a first year literature course wasn't something you saw every day. Especially one that used to know the previous professor of the course.

Were they…? She didn't want to ask, that was enough embarrassment for one day.

The Doctor shrugged. "Oh, I used to travel. Spent most of my life travelling around the world I suppose. That's how I met River actually, we met in Germany." A nostalgic smile crept across his face. "It was some time ago. Not nearly as far back as the Third Reich though, I'm not that old."

"I never said you were," Clara quipped back although she leaned even further in her desk, looking at the Doctor more closely. There was an interesting story behind him, one she hardly expected. "And besides, if Wilde has anything to say about it, youth is not the most important commodity."

"The price is too high. But then, I suppose that's what makes things precious," The Doctor murmured and he looked as if he was about to say something. Clara really thought so because he had opened his mouth for a split second before closing it just as quickly. It seemed as if the Doctor was troubled by his thoughts for a moment before he stood up quickly, holding up his empty coffee cup.

"Well, I suppose I kept you for long enough. Thank you for taking the time to talk with one of your students."

If she was disappointed (she was) by the end of their conversation, Clara tried not to show it. "Well, then I'll just see you in class then. And please don't forget to hand in your assignment before the deadline –coffee isn't enough to make me lenient on the deadlines."

He must've caught the teasing tone in her words as he started for the door because the Doctor glanced back, with a small smirk playing on his lips. "You're the boss."

Only then did Clara realize that the entire conversation they had was about him and not her like she had expected.

Ruffling through the essays that had piled up on her desk, there was almost a defeated slump to her posture as she tried to fit them in her bag. She really wasn't looking forward to this, she thought dejectedly as she shoved papers into her bag. One of the papers slipped her hands and ended up falling on the floor and Clara let out an annoyed groan.

Bending down to pick it up, she caught sight of the bright sticky that was stuck on the top of the assignment.

**"The Doctor."**

She frowned, checking the top of the essay. Nope, there was no other name besides that. How was she going to mark it? But what grabbed her attention quickly was a few short scribbles written below his name.

**"Some things are more precious because they don't last long."**


	4. Chapter 4

"Yes, but Dorian was given the book by Lord Henry. He used the book to-"

"I think that's enough for today," Clara clapped her hands to signal the end of the conversation and cutting off the Scottish girl's argument. The lecture had flown by in a blur, all thanks to a lively discussion between a particularly loud ginger-haired first year and the Doctor about the theme of living through the lenses of an artist. Clara was impressed by the breadth of knowledge the girl was able call upon in order to argue with the Doctor. Or more importantly, the confidence she exuded to challenge him. Not many people were able to speak up against the Doctor whenever he piped up a point of discussion, relevant or irrelevant. Normally, the class was silent but it seemed as if this particular Scotswoman had enough of the man's ramblings. To some extent, Clara gloated at the idea that the Doctor had been spoken down to by a freshman. It was a rarity; she'd have to learn the girl's name someday.

"Don't forget to pick up your assignments on your way out," Clara called out as the class began to disperse. "And if you have any qualms with the grade, please feel free to see me during my office hours." She turned her back to the class to erase the board as the class filed out, only turning when a familiar cough sounded from behind her.

She cocked her head towards the Doctor. "Yes? What is it?" The Doctor made a show with his hands, wiggling his fingers in thin air.

"Not sure if you noticed but my assignment wasn't in the pile."

"No?" Clara feigned surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, perhaps it got lost? All the assignments that were handed back were the only ones I had. Well, I did have one but…" She shook her head almost disappointedly. "The name wasn't on the assignment. Or rather, there was a particular name. The Doctor…who even has a name like that? It's not anywhere on my class list."

There was a teasing tint to her words as the Doctor scowled and Clara decided that she had been amused enough. Starting for her desk, she picked up the assignment with the yellow sticky still intact before passing it over to the Doctor. "Here you go. Really, you might as well tell me your name, I would hate for you to fail the course because I can't input any of your marks in." Regardless of how irritating the man could be at times, she still didn't want him to fail her course.

He ignored her (typical) and snatched the assignment out of her hands, his eyes scanning the marks she made on his assignment. "Only 85?" He exclaimed, eyes widening as his gaze shot up to Clara. "I'm sure there must be a mistake. The other 15%-"

"Your assignment was well written," Clara held up her hands, already prepared for this discussion. She was expecting him to be that student. "Your points were very good and you had a very natural flow to your writing. But while the majority of your arguments were sound, I felt as though you could have elaborated on the last one more, the one about the transient nature of certain things. You mainly just repeated yourself on that last paragraph," She pointed out. "Might be good if you could give some examples. Stuff from other literature or even personal examples if you'd prefer. The guidelines for the assignment weren't too strict."

There was a thoughtful look that transpired across his face and Clara was about to ask what he was thinking about. But she didn't get a chance to when he gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders before folding his assignment in half to place in his pockets. "Well, you're a very fair marker, Dr. Oswald. I can tell that I need to up my game if I ever want to try and impress you." He smiled. "That's a challenge I'll accept."

"I did enjoy the perspective you brought about the different types of theatrical performances and what they represented," Clara added as an afterthought, nodding to the Doctor. "You have been around the world, haven't you? It's quite impressive."

The Doctor let out a small chuckle of amusement. "Well, I only visited Greece and Rome a few times. Not that many, but they're home to some of the best places to watch theatrical performances. Have you…?"

"No," Clara shook her head. "I haven't had the time to travel. Jumped headfirst into college and never left since," She answered back. That was true, at least most of it. She didn't want to bore the Doctor with her own stories, and plus, it probably was looked down upon for professors to share their secrets with their students. That seemed to fall into the category of intimate interactions...

"You should keep writing about your travels in your assignments then," Clara said. "They're engaging to read." In a way, it was heartening to read about them, it reminded her of her own plans. Well, old plans. She didn't think she had the heart to leave her home anymore. The Doctor must've been a mind reader as he interrupted her thoughts and asked, "I'll make a note of it. Have you ever travelled before? You must've done something."

It almost seemed as if he knew that she had gone on that trip. The thought was troubling but she pushed it to the back of her mind, giving a small shrug of her shoulders. "Well, school trips. Camping. The likes, I've been around England if that's what you're wondering. But never travelled to the same extent as you," She said, her tone markedly more clipped. He must've realized that it wasn't a topic she wanted to elaborate on because he opened his mouth before closing it again promptly. He did that a lot, Clara realized. Wanting to say something but not say it.

"Well, I'll just regal you with my own tales then. And perhaps you'll decide to see the world and all that it has to offer one day," He finally said. He gave a glance at the clock, brows furrowing for a moment. "I'd love to stay and chat and give you my refutation for Pond's argument-"

"Pond?" Clara asked, genuinely confused. He waved a hand around the side of his head, gesturing his hair. "Red hair. The feisty Scottish one. The not shy one," He introduced," Amelia Pond, like a name out of a fairy tale. Her and her shadow live a few houses down from me. They see me walking to class sometimes so she often tries to strike up a conversation," A small smile graced his lips. "She's quite the pushy one when she wants to be. A lot bolder than the rest of your students."

"Don't talk as if you're not one of them," Clara chided and he laughed in response. She remembered grading an assignment with "Amy Pond" written in a neat cursive at the top…she probably gave it a good mark? It was very vocal, that much she remembered.

"Fine. She's not as bold as I am. But it's a good start," The Doctor said with some finality before glancing back at the time. "Well, I'll stop by your office with some tea in a few days. Wednesdays, right?" She gave a nod and was about to protest about the tea before he gave her a small wink. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, it's not bribery."

Pretty?

She didn't have time to mull over the comment before the Doctor turned on his heels and started for the door. Clara called out something that sounded like a good-bye before starting to pack her own things until the Doctor called out from the entrance of the lecture hall.

"And you can give that 85% to John Smith."

John? Her head snapped upwards but by then, the Doctor had vanished from the room. That was, well, she would have never guessed that was his name. John Smith seemed so ordinary; it almost didn't suit the adventurous and snappy character she had gotten to know.

Maybe that's why he prefers going by The Doctor, Clara thought before frowning. John Smith. She felt as if she had heard the name before but she couldn't recall from where. She didn't have any acquaintances on social media by that name –nor did she remember any of her friends with a friend named John Smith. It was so ordinary that she was certain that she would have remembered if that was the case.

She shrugged it off. Maybe it was just a common name.

But why did it sound so familiar?


	5. Chapter 5

A series of short knocks brought Clara out of her stupor. "Come in!" She called, glancing up to see who was visiting at this time. It was her typical office hours but no one besides the Doctor-John- ever showed up.

Which, if she had to admit, was rather nice. They had nice, lengthy discussions about the books they were learning in class. Once they were finished the Picture of Dorian Gray and started working on some poetry from Coleridge, the Doctor seemed to have gotten even more livid with his analysis. They had started off with a classic poem, Kubla Khan, and the Doctor had such strong opinions about it when she introduced it to the class. So much, that she could feel the terror spread across the class when the Doctor had launched into a rant about every aspect of the mythical language used in the poetry.

She had managed to shut him up ("Mr. Smith, I believe it's time to move on. We've only covered the first two stanzas in the past 20 minutes") for the sake of the frightened undergraduates but she had suggested that he brought his thoughts and musings to her office hours if he really wanted to delve deeper into the poems.

Their talks were amazing. The colorfulness of the language he used as he tried to support his findings, his willingness to argue against her perceptions of the poem and its pivotal ending led to a heated (wonderful) debate. It was rare for anyone, even other professors; to willing engage her in an argument. Most people couldn't hold a candle to her words yet the Doctor rose up to challenge her again and again.

If anything, she was more than excited to see him weekly for a few hours of discussion. With tea, of course, he brought her a chai tea without fail. In turn, she started to keep a steady supply of biscuits in her office and it definitely looked as if he was rather fond of the Jammie Dodgers given the rate he finished off a package.

So it was a surprise, a disappointed one, when it wasn't the Doctor standing with a cup in his hands but the fiery red head who often sat next to the Doctor. Clara furrowed her brows for a moment as she tried to figure out her name before the girl shoved the cup towards her.

"It's Pond," The girl introduced herself, holding out a hand to shake. "How do you do, Dr. Oswald? I come bearing gifts –yours truly from the Doctor." Clara let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she took the offered cup. "Really, he shouldn't have…but thank you," Clara smiled, glancing at the door behind her. "You didn't have to bring it for him…?"

"No, he insisted," Amy said, plopping down on the seat in front of her. "See, the Doctor and I live near each other. He caught me on my way out and instructed me to stop by "The short professor's office hours and bring her a chai tea or I won't fix your television every time it breaks". That was threatening enough so here I am."

A confused but rather amused smile colored Clara's expression. "Did he, really? He really didn't have to." It was an interesting thought to envision the Doctor as a handy man but perhaps he was gifted in many talents. It seemed that way from the way he talked about his travels and experiences. Masquerading as a caretaker for a school, going on a trans-continental trip across Europe…it almost opened her own lounging to travel.

Before she remembered that incident and she promptly shut out the potential again. "But it's good to meet you –Amelia Pond, was it?" Clara smiled warmly, "You're doing great in the course. Your work is very polished."

"Amy Pond," The Scot corrected her quickly before beaming brightly, "Thank you! I must say, writing is just a hidden talent of mine. And your course is so much more interesting than everything else I'm taking," She made a face, wrinkling her nose, "I'm majoring in English so I'm taking a lot of other similar courses. Some on children's tales like fairy tales, some contemporary works….but the professors are rather dull. And Dr. Simeon is a bit creepy."

The elderly professor did give her the same creep factor, Clara mused, giving a small empathic nod to Amy. "Well, he's not a terrible professor, I hope. Sometimes his voice can get rather…monotone but he's quite an expert in his field." Of the weirdest and oddest literature but to each own's. "So what brings you here? Did you want to discuss about the next assignment or-?"

Amy shook her head. "Oh no, sorry. I'm just here as the Doctor's errand girl," She frowned a bit before adding hastily. "Not that I wouldn't mind discussing with you about the current poetry books! It's just that I have to see my boyfriend –Rory- in a short bit so I can't stay for long. I'm really just here to bring you that chai tea," She pointed to the cup in Clara's hand. "And inform you that the Doctor is definitely going to wow you with his next assignment."

Clara raised an eye at her statement. "How so?"

Amy let out a small guffaw of laughter, shaking her head, "This is actually hilarious. Okay, he told me not to tell you what happened but I have to. So he's sick with a cold right now –no, he'll be fine. He's a tough fighting Scotsman. But anyways, he was working on the assignment you made all night yesterday and because he was so ~intently focused~, he forgot that he opened the window in his room. So he didn't notice his room was chilly until he woke up sneezing from his desk."

"Oh no," Clara's brows furrowed in worry. She didn't like the sound of that –she didn't really want to push the Doctor too far to the point of sickness. Amy must have noticed the look of dread that spread across her face as she quickly reached out to grab Clara's hand reassuringly. "No! Don't worry, he'll get better. He just doesn't want to get you sick, that's all," She nodded. "Some rest will do him some good anyways. He's always jumping around the place –I swear, he's got more energy than anyone my age." It didn't look as if her words were reassuring Clara before the next second, Amy let out an exasperated sigh before pulling away. "Fine, I get it. Do you have a paper and pen? Oh here we go," Amy said, reaching to grab a sticky pad and a pen from Clara's desk before furiously scribbling something before passing it back.

Clara took it wordlessly, glancing at the piece of paper. "A phone number?"

"The Doctor's number. Why don't you give him a call if you're so worried?" Amy suggested with a shrug of her shoulders. Clara was about to protest about how unprofessional it would be before Amy stopped her by placing a finger across her lips.

"No one's going to know. And neither I nor the Doctor are going to run around telling people that you called a student because you were looking out for their well-being." Amy did have a fair point if Clara was being honest with herself. She really was a bit worried about the Doctor's health, mainly because it seemed as if it was partially her own fault. Glancing at the number in her hands, she thought about it carefully.

Then again, it wasn't as if she was required to call since it was given to her. "I'll think about it," She decided with a small smile sent to Amy. The Scot responded with a larger smile before jumping off of the chair. "Great! Okay, my job here is done. Better get going or my boyfriend's going to worry sick that I got hit by a car or something." Clara laughed at her words before murmuring a good-bye as Amy started out the door.

"I think he'll actually appreciate a call," Amy said as she started to leave. "Really, he doesn't talk to many people from what I've seen. He keeps to himself mostly. Sometimes I think all he needs is a little company to turn his grouchy face into a smile. Toodles!"

It was funny how much you learned about someone from someone else. Clara was surprised to hear that the Doctor didn't seem to talk; it definitely didn't look that way based on his livid rants during class and with her. Or even the way he described his adventures to her, they always seemed to involve a spectacle.

Glancing back down at the note in her hand, Clara deliberated for a few moments. And then she reached for her phone.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hello?"

It was a throaty, raspy voice that made Clara wince when the other end of the line picked up. It sounded like the Doctor –maybe- but barely. The only evidence that it was still the Doctor on the other end of the line was the biting tone of his voice, at least that never changed even when he was down with a cold.

"Hi –it's uh. Clara. Clara Oswald," She quickly added. She had never used her first time with the Doctor, seeing as though the other had always referred her to Dr. Oswald. But it felt strange introducing herself over the phone with the title. "Amy Pond gave me your number. She stopped by my office to let me know that you were sick."

"Well of course she would," The Doctor seemed to have started to grumble before a barrage of coughs seemed to cut his words short. "She owed me a favor eventually, anyways. That girl is absolutely technologically challenged; she breaks her television set every week it seems."

"Thank you for the tea," Clara said lightly, smiling into the receiver end of the phone as she leaned back in her chair. The tea was still lukewarm in her hands but it was nearly done. "But you really didn't have to-"

"Don't be saying that, of course I had to," He snapped back before a sneeze punctuated his words. "You'd be missing out a prime opportunity to experience my knowledge. All of those shy pudding brains probably couldn't string together a coherent sentence I could come up with in my sleep." At his words, Clara rolled her eyes in mock amusement. It seemed as if even with a cold, the Doctor could still be just as rude and crash as he always were. Not that it seemed as though he disliked any of the students, he seemed rather helpful to the ones that sat near him (Which basically only consisted of Amy and the blond haired boy that followed Amy like a shadow). Rather than poking deeper into the issue, she had already reminded him that _he _was one of her students as well; she decided to take a different route.

"You sound absolutely terrible."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Dr. Obvious," He snapped back with another loud sniffle. "Is that why you decided to call me? Let me know how bad I sound right now? It's your fault by the way. I was trying to ensure that my next assignment was perfect for you and I lost track of the time. Cue waking up freezing by the desk with a runny nose. Great way to start the morning."

"What's this? The big bad Doctor can't keep up with the other students? I don't hear them losing track of time." Clara couldn't help but jib back, teasingly. He guffawed from the other side and he muttered something underneath his breath that she couldn't quite catch. Furrowing her brows, she could make out the words 'eyes' and 'in it for the prof'. But based on those key words, she'd rather not learn about what feedback he had heard from the other students.

"Anyways, I am sorry that you caught a cold," Clara decided finally, sighing quietly into the receiver. That was the whole purpose of the call, wasn't it? It wasn't always the easiest thing for her to apologize but this was definitely one of those situations that was indirectly her fault. Or at least, she felt a modicum of responsibility for her student. "If you'd like, I could push the deadline for you a bit later for you to get more time to work on your assignment."

"I'm done so don't worry about it," The Doctor replied dryly. "Finished it just before I crawled into bed for the rest of the day. Fortunately, it's still covered with some drool and snot so maybe I'll get you back for this cold when I hand it in."

"I'll be….sure to handle it with great care. With rubber gloves. And lots of sanitizer."

"You better. Anyways, as great as-," He let out a whopping cough that even made Clara wince on the other side. "-this talk was, I should get some more rest. Seriously, you can really make a person feel better," He said sarcastically. "Calling me in the middle of an important healing trance to taunt me is a true hallmark of a great educator. " Before Clara could protest, the Doctor quickly added, "I'll see you in class."

And then the line went dead and Clara just stared, unblinkingly at the phone in her hands. For some reason, she couldn't exactly place how the conversation had gone. What had she been expecting?

_Or rather the question was –had she been expecting something from the Doctor?_

* * *

><p>At her next class, it was an understatement to say that she was anxiously waiting for the Doctor to come to class. Would he be well enough to come? The thought had troubled her as students began to file in and she would deny the fact that she had taken frequent glances up to the door whenever it was opened.<p>

It was never the Doctor who entered and she was beginning to give up hope when class was about to begin. But just as soon as she called for attention in the class, the door swung open and the Doctor entered the room, flanked by Amy and a blond haired man. For a moment, Clara faltered as she began the introduction to her lecture when she took a careful look at the Doctor.

She could barely see his face with the giant surgical mask across his face. The trio had decided to settle near the back of the class –or at least, Amy seemed to have forced the Doctor into one of the seats near the back. He didn't seem happy but there definitely weren't any available seats in the front anymore. But somehow, the arrival of the Doctor gave Clara a surprisingly boost of confidence –or maybe she was just relieved that the man didn't just drop dead- because she managed to cover the lecture smoothly without any lapses in her discussion.

It was a different class, to say the least. While the Doctor was normally the disruption, this class was much quieter causing her to pick on random students to share their thoughts and ideas. But these conversations were peppered with loud, obnoxious coughs from the back and they only stopped when there was a small 'ow' cry attached at the end.

_Looks like_, Clara smiled inwardly, _someone was keeping the Doctor in check at least._

When class ended, she should've expected the Doctor to march right up to the front and shoved a neatly stapled, thankfully snot-free assignment into her face. "See. Perfection in front of your very eyes," He announced, words mumbled by the mask across his face. "I sweat blood and tears for this assignment. Literally."

Clara raised an eye as she reached forward to take the proffered assignment. "I expect nothing but the best from you, Doctor," Clara grinned back up to the Doctor as she rifled through the assignment. Even from just skimming the introduction and some of the pages, it seemed like a solid essay. "I'm glad you're taking this course seriously."

"I take everything quite seriously," He replied as a-matter-of-factly before he let out a string of coughs. "Read it. And tell me what you think of it. I'm expecting a lot of raves. And maybe a gold star –do you still do those things?"

"Maybe if you were still in grade school," Clara replied back with a raised eyebrow. "Are you?"

The Doctor merely shrugged. "Age means nothing when you're as old as me." Another coughing fit escaped him and there was a second that Clara was worried that he was going to double over from the force of his coughs. "But uh- it seems like the cold isn't going to get better anytime soon. I can't come to your offices next week then." If her disappointment showed on her face, she tried desperately to hide it.

Except Clara didn't stay disappointed because the Doctor had shot her a wink before turning on his heels. "But you _do_ have my number. I wonder what you could do with it?"

* * *

><p>"You're right. It's one of the best essays I've read this term," Clara breathed out into the phone as she held up the Doctor's essay in one hand and her phone in the other.<p>

She was lounging in her apartment on her couch as she called him. It was a nice evening with little marking to do. His assignment had sparked her interest a few days ago but she had only just gotten time to read it. So with a nice glass of wine by her side and the essay, she had started to read.

But it was so enthralling. The level of analysis he went into for the poem about the ancient Mariner was extraordinary, she could tell the different facets of research he used to analyze the long poem. She could even recognize some of Dr. Song's citations within the body of the text which made her smile. Somehow, it didn't take long for her to finish the paper and she didn't hesitate to reach out for her phone this time around.

And it was odd, just a bit, how okay it was to ring up the Doctor. It was only their second phone conversation but somehow it seemed like the most familiar and normal thing to do. She should've been more hesitant because really, he was her student. All in all, regardless of his age, she was in a position of authority. And phone calls like the ones involving her relaxing at home did not seem to fit the bill of academic integrity. But maybe the alcohol did help lower her inhibitions. Besides, what was the harm in telling a student about what she thought about his work?

A laugh echoed from the other side. "Well. I can't deny that's the best conversation starter I've ever heard."

"No, but really," Clara insisted as she flipped over another page of the essay. "Your thoughts are incredibly well formed. I never thought about some of the issues you raised up before, which is actually quite an achievement because that has never happened before. Really, I was astonished. Maybe even a tad bit jealous," She let out a small giggle of laughter, taking another sip of her wine, noticing that there wasn't much of it left. Had it been one glass? Or was it more like three?

"Good to know that my hard efforts didn't go unappreciated," The Doctor replied back, coughing a few times again. But it seemed as if he was getting better, his voice sounded much less hoarse then before. Although the coughing suggested otherwise.

"_The mariner driven by guilt is an example of one driven to the point of no return. Perhaps his sentence is a lesson in making amends and paying penance. It is something every individual will have to overcome in their lives._ _One day, our mistakes will follow us and be a lesson to all those who care to listen. Just like the mariner who will forever wander aimlessly sharing his story. We are all wanderers in our journeys. I can relate._" Clara recited from one of the lines she had highlighted out of interest. "That's well done. But maybe you should have elaborated more on your own experiences. Adds a greater level of gravitas to your work."

A chuckle sounded from the other end as the Doctor replied back, "Or maybe I don't need to since it seemed as if you understood the point perfectly without it. What's the need in embellishing it with unnecessary details?"

_Because somehow, something about you is so familiar. Yet I just don't know why your name, your real name, sounds like a memory that I can't remember. _

"Well it's your own fault that you just had to get the reader interested," Clara grumbled offhandedly, pushing her other thoughts to the back of her mind.

"Well, it's just another experience I've drawn from my travels. Luckily nothing nearly as dramatic as the mariner. Or maybe I'd actually be a wandering skeleton."

"Will you tell me sometimes?" Clara asked. For a moment, the silence was drawn out for longer than expected. She could feel her heart stop for a moment, wondering if she had asked the wrong question. Or was she being too forward?

Yet the Doctor broke the silence with a small cough. "Well. I only really delve into my personal life after I've shared a few meals with someone. I don't just shout out my entire life to the whole world."

"Well it can hardly be any different from the conversations we've had during my office hours," Clara responded back, rolling her glass in her hands. "Or is this your way of asking me to ask you out to dinner?"

"Yes."

Clara was silent for a moment as she processed his answer carefully. But it was impossible to –perhaps with the alcohol in her system and her own confusing thoughts. It was even quiet on the other end of the line, although it was punctuated with the odd cough and sneeze.

"Wait, what is this a yes to? The first bit or the second?"

"_Yes_."


	7. Chapter 7

So dinner was a thing. A real, proper thing. Although…it was the oddest way she had ever been asked out to dinner (which actually wasn't as often as you'd think it would be, her father had always told her that she scared away most of the men in her life).

The call had ended with the Doctor asking her to meet him by the entrance of the building she worked in at 7 pm. There were no details about where they were going and he had been vehement in keeping it a surprise for her. And while she wasn't a huge fan of them, she didn't want to refuse an invitation based solely on that reason. Besides, Danny had always pointed out that she seemed to follow a routine, day in and day out.

"You look like you're on cloud nine. Do you have a date?"

Speak of the devil. Clara cocked her head to where Danny, a fellow colleague and close friend, came strolling down the halls. She immediately tried to feign innocence, shaking her head as she crossed the distance between the two of them. "N-no! Of course not," She said quickly. "Why would you say that?"

"Because you had a stupid grin on your face from all the way down the hall," Danny pointed out and Clara's hand instantly shot to her lips, trying to see whether or not he was right. The motion made him raise an eyebrow and she finally relented, letting out a defeated sigh. It was hard to keep most of her secrets from the man. The mathematics professor was a keen observer. Too keen, he seemed to just _get_ the human psyche more so than the psychology professors she's had the pleasure of meeting. Clara's first impressions of the man were someone who probably buried his nose in equations and formulas day in and out but…

As it turns out, they both had the same taste in terrible television shows and excellent literature. He was fond of most of the classics she loved to lecture about so they made quite the pair. Even if she never really followed any of his mathematical theories past the first letter that slipped out of his mouth. Math dealt in numbers, how could it be possible for there to be more letters?

"Well for your information," Clara started as a small smile crawled its way on her face fondly. "I do. Actually. Is it so surprising?"

"Well, I sort of assumed you'd scare off most guys with your sharp intelligence," Danny teased although he seemed genuinely glad for her. "And I took a look at the people in your faculty –suffice to say that they're the bookish quiet or boorish stubborn types that don't suit you. Both males and females, I admit. Hey, I'm looking out for you!" He protested when Clara gave him a punch to the shoulder. "Was a bit worried that you were really never going to go on another date after the last one. I was seriously considering forcing you to join a dating website at some point."

"Well luckily for you, I solved my own dating problem," Clara snipped back but an appreciated look passed her face as she gave him a pat on the shoulder. "And what about you? Pot calling the kettle black if you haven't tried looking for someone." Danny let out a chuckle, running a hand through his own hair sheepishly.

"I'm not really looking right now. Bit tied up with a lot of projects and getting some funding for some programs. A lot of educational programs to interest young students about math, that sort of thing. I don't think I have the time to go on dates much less catch up with the latest episode of Selfie," A gasp of shock escaped Clara's lips as Danny raised up his hands in surrender. "I know, I know. It's brutal, isn't it? But anyways –enjoy your date. And let me know how it goes. I'm off to teach my next class; advanced algebra for first years'. Although I feel as though the class size is dwindling day by day…."

"There's so much I have to tell you about it," Clara groaned, shaking her head. "Alright. Well, I won't keep you from educating your students with the wonders of finding the areas of triangles and the likes." She cut him off before he could begin his usual rant about how algebra was so much more than that by giving him a short pat on the shoulder. "And remind me to introduce you to Nina, sometime? She's an elementary school teacher. I feel as though the two of you would get along famously…you both adore children. And teaching. Yeah?"

There was a hesitant look in Danny's eyes but it didn't last long before he let out a small nod. "Well…alright then. But only after you've told me about tonight's date experience. Let me know who the lucky guy is –I'll die of laughter if it's . And that's a promise." With that said, Danny had bounded off, escaping Clara's yells of protest that she would never date a man like Walter and _he was married_.

Her words fell on deaf ears as she stared at the empty hallway. But it didn't bother her in the slightest as she felt the bubbling sensation rise up within her again at tonight's prospects. Yes, she smiled brightly as she turned to walk towards her office. It was a good day.

* * *

><p>The autumn air was getting chillier and chillier and Clara bundled herself up with her scarves and gloves. Winter was coming, she thought mournfully as she waited by the entrance, hopping on one foot to another in the hopes of keeping warm. It was probably still too early –the last time she had checked the time, it was only 6:45 pm- but she had grown impatient in her office. Her focus on her work was next to nil and so she had relented and made her way outside to wait out the rest of the time.<p>

"Looks like somebody's eager," A Scottish brogue drew her out of her daze as she stood up straighter. The Doctor strode towards her, a heavy coat draped across his shoulders but she could see his favorite Crombie peeking out from underneath. "It's only –what, oh 7:03 pm."

"3 minutes late," Clara responded, crossing her arms with a cross expression on her face. Although one that didn't last for long before she launched into a teasing tone. "Care to explain yourself?"

The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "It's not my fault. I got distracted."

"By what?"

"By…well, the cold," He admitted honestly. "Stepped out of the door and realized I probably need a jacket for tonight. Don't want a repeat of that cold from a few nights ago. But I'm here now, aren't I? I keep my promises." Clara smiled at his response before giving a small nod of her head, "Well…alright, I can accept that. Right so-where are we going?"

"Come on," He urged, gesturing with his hand for her to follow him. They didn't walk far before they reached one of the nearby parking lots and he made his way to a vibrant blue car. As Clara walked over to side of the car, she caught a glimpse of the license plate and shot a quizzical expression towards him.

"TARDIS? What does that even mean? Doesn't it cost a fortune to customize the plate?"

The Doctor waved a hand as he got into the dark, buckling himself in. "Well, I got it a long time ago. Must've been high when I made up that license plate but it's a nice nickname for this old girl." He patted the wheel almost affectionately. "She's always taken me to where I need to go. Whether that be here or across Europe."

"A boy and his car….can't separate the two, can I?" Clara chuckled in amusement as she followed suit. The Doctor gave her a glance at her response and he looked as if he was about to say something before catching himself. Instead, he started up the car. "Anyways, I'm taking you to a nice place. Nothing fancy, just…do you like lasagna?"

"I quite enjoy italian food, yeah."

"Then you'll like the place I'm taking you to. Best lasagna in town. Trust me, I've tried them all," The Doctor assured her as he drove. That sparked another conversation and then another…

Somehow, it was just so easy to fall into place with the Doctor. Every conversation just seemed so fluid. It was different from their heated debates about the text but much more relaxed. Familiar.

Clara didn't think she would mind it very much if it never ended.

* * *

><p>"Where are we?" Clara wondered as she stepped foot out of the car. It was almost nearing 8 and the restaurant they were at didn't look familiar in the slightest. Nor were the streets around them. She had lost track of time as they talked and she barely paid attention to the road. So now, she was completely and utterly lost.<p>

"We're in a small town eastward," The Doctor explained. "Never learned what the town was called unfortunately. Just this restaurant," He nodded to Mancini's. "Is really quite the wonder. I got us a reservation or else we'd never find a seat."

He was right though, as the restaurant was completely filled to the brim with patrons. They managed to get a nice cozy seating next to the windows and Clara graciously took the chair offered by the Doctor. "You're quite the gentleman," She remarked as she fingered the menu at her fingertips. Maybe it was just the lighting but she swore she saw the tips of the Doctor's ears reddening.

"Hard to break a habit," He grumbled out as he flipped through the menu quickly. "Don't get their pizzas, it's not the best. But everything else is great. Have I told you about the lasagna?" Clara let out a groan, shaking her head rapidly as she placed her menu back on the table. "Okay, okay. This is probably the seventh time you've mentioned the lasagna. I'll get that then."

"Excellent. I'm glad that I can still persuade you to make the right choice," The Doctor smiled as he called for the waiter to take their order. Once that was done –after a quick comment on the monotone voice of their waiter-, Clara had leaned forward in her seat; towards the Doctor. "Right so….this thing. You were saying how you'd never talk about anything personal until after a meal."

The Doctor took a sip out of his water, cocking an eyebrow towards her. "We haven't even started eating yet." Clara shrugged her shoulders. "Figured now would be a good time to begin. Why not?"

Maybe he had nothing more to interject because he let out an amused sigh before leaning forward in his own seat, his nose being almost close enough to brush against her own. "Well I can't argue with that. Shall we take turns? You can ask first."

"Well…," Clara started although she felt herself stumped as to what she could ask first. She hadn't thought that she would have gotten this far in the conversation. But right now, looking straight into the Doctor's eyes in such an atmosphere…it really felt as if it was all up in the air. Anything could happen.

"Do you always ask your professors to dinner?" Clara blurted out without a thought. It was her biggest concern and worry for the past few hours, her stomach had tossed and turned at the possibility that maybe this, _them_, wasn't a thing. That he was just being overly friendly as a mature student who could probably drink with his professors and have a good time. It was uncommon for professors to form a strong relationship with their students outside academia, after all. She hoped that he wasn't just trying to get in good favors with the faculty.

"Only the ones I like," The Doctor responded readily. "The ones whose office hours I'm willing to subject myself too. Not sure what your opinion on Dr. Simeon is but I don't think I can stand his grating voice outside of the lecture hall if I can avoid it."

She was about to reveal that she felt the same way –but imagine what it was like to sit through entire presentations with the man- before realizing that it would probably be unprofessional to do so. Instead, she closed her mouth and sent a sheepish nod of acknowledgement towards him. "Dr. Simeon can get…quite…"

"Boring, you can say it," The Doctor said. "I won't tell a soul of what happens tonight. Alright, my turn." His smile turned devilish as he asked, "So how about you? Do you go out to dinners with your students often?"

"No!" She answered quickly, furiously shaking her head. "Of course not-I just. Well, I just started teaching this year in fact," She answered honestly. "So I don't really know any students for that matter. And besides, it'll be illegal for me to date my students, they're all so young." But maybe not so much since she was pushing her thirties.

"But it's okay because I'm an old man?" The Doctor shot back.

"Of course not. I mean…," She fiddled with the glass in her hands. "I mean, yes, I do see you differently than my other students. Partially due to your age in the beginning but that's not how I see you anymore. You're more than that. You…you seem a lot more interested and engaged in the subject matter than the rest of the students. Part of me understands that though, it's the student life. You've got to drink and have sex in your college experience," She waved a hand away; "School comes second to that. And to be honest, I can't imagine you being at a raging party. So that's why it seems as though you're more interested in the material. You're the only person who comes to my office hours on a regular basis."

The Doctor smiled, perhaps a bit amused at her long-winded answer. "Well…no, I don't think you'll ever find me at that kind of party. Those days are behind me now. Don't want my hearing to go out even faster." Clara gave an agreeing grunt. That part of parties she didn't miss. Or the throwing up. And the unwelcomed advances.

"Well, you're a good teach. For a first time professor, you're awfully better at your job than most of the other classes I'm taking," The Doctor commented just as their food arrived. The steaming plates of lasagna for the two of them made her stomach growl even louder and she felt her mouth water at the sight of the meticulously placed dishes. They looked heavenly. Without a word, she dug in immediately and let out a satisfied moan when the first taste of the lasagna hit her tongue. "This is absolutely fantastic," She said, digging her fork sharply into her plate again. "I think you're right about this being the best lasagna you've ever had. It's the best one I've ever had."

The Doctor chuckled in amusement at her responses as he slowly cut into his own food. "It'll ruin you, I promise." He said as he took a bite. "You'll never be satisfied with any other Italian dishes ever again."

"If it means experiencing this, that's a price I'm willing to pay," Clara replied back with confidence before she tilted her head to one side. "So what other classes are you taking? Actually, what are you studying? Your major…?"

"English literature mainly," The Doctor said. "So most of the literature courses, some writing and some history classes. I suppose you can call it an ensemble of classes." He paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. "I do in fact, have a degree. Went to medical school."

Clara nearly spat out her dish at his announcement. "Wait. You're saying that…you're an actual doctor? A physician?"

"You never asked," The Doctor responded. "Yeah. Went into medicine and then decided to work with Doctors without Borders for a time period. A long period of time actually," He gave a small way of his hand to elucidate his point. "Hence the travelling. Either I was working for them or I was vacationing across the world. Couldn't stay in the same place forever. Glasgow is nice but I wanted out."

"Wow." There was newfound appreciation in Clara's eyes as she appraised the Doctor carefully. That was something she didn't even consider. "So what are you doing studying literature then? Bored of being a doctor?"

"Thought of trying something new. Keep my mind active," The Doctor explained. "I always enjoyed literature. And history of course. But those professions didn't seem to involve as much travelling as I'd like. So I took the other route because I had the brains for it and well," He gave her a sheepish smile. "I like helping others. So it was a nice gig."

"So why'd you stop?" Clara asked. There was suddenly a reluctant atmosphere as the Doctor ducked his head down to stare down at his mostly finished plate. She wondered for a second if this was the wrong question to ask –since it wasn't every day that a physician decided to change careers- before his eyes were quickly raised up to meet her own.

"Times change. We all change." And that was the end of it. He poked at his lasagna hard for a moment before he gestured towards her. "Okay so that was a lot of questions for me. So how about you? What made you give up travelling?"

"I didn't give up travelling," Clara protested, instantly on the defensive.

"You seemed to really enjoy hearing about the places I've been to. And you keep pictures of various sceneries and landscapes in your office –I haven't missed them. One of Italy, one of Korea, one of New York…," He listed the places off with one hand before he added, "Yet you never seem to talk about any plans to visit those places."

Now it was her turn to look downcast at her finished plate. Her hand fiddled with the fork and knife almost anxiously as she bit her lip. What could she say? It wasn't a memory she enjoyed bringing back to the forefront but…

"I went on a trip once," She admitted, glancing back up at the Doctor. "To the first place I wanted to see. I wanted to see the world in order. So I went there and…" She let out a deep breath. "Let's just say that trip was a disaster. Anything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. I figured out from that trip that I really wasn't meant to explore the world so I stopped." Her hands continued to fidget for a moment longer with her utensils before she added in a more quiet voice.

"But maybe I'll start up someday. I haven't stopped, I'm just…taking a break." And now she had her position at the university to maintain. She had an entire future to build and create; there was no point to follow some fanciful dream she had as a child of travelling around the world.

It was nice that the Doctor didn't seem to prod her for any further details, perhaps reading the signs that this was a topic that made her deeply uncomfortable. He gave a small nod and finished up his own plate rather quickly before calling for the check. "I'll pay since I dragged you out to the middle of nowhere," The Doctor said, against Clara's protest. "It'll be my pleasure."

With a relenting sigh, Clara gave a shake of her head. "You're far too stubborn. Fine. But I'm paying for the next one."

Maybe the Doctor couldn't even imagine the possibility of a next time because she could see his eyes lit up at her words and he smiled broadly. And that smile lit up something deep in her chest, something she never thought would ever spark. Whatever memories of the trip was dredged forward was quickly dashed by the warm glow that settled in her heart.

* * *

><p>"Tonight was really nice," Clara decided as they stepped outside of the restaurant and she gave a quick look around them. It was late with the stars already beginning to light up the sky. "Thanks for the dinner," She smiled warmly at the Doctor who walked beside her.<p>

"Don't mention it," The Doctor replied with a chuckle as he unlocked the car. "It was a pleasure to have dinner with you, Dr. Oswald."

"Please," Clara scoffed as she climbed in. "Just call me Clara. I mean, outside of class of course," She added quickly. "It just feels weird for you to be calling me especially now that I know that you should be Dr. Smith."

The Doctor scoffed at the name, waving his hand away. "It's just a title. But alright…Clara." The sound of her name rolling off his tongue was oddly endearing, with the r's rolling off just the right way.

As she turned her head towards him, it was at the exact same time that he turned his own head. And for a moment, they were staring straight into each other's eyes. Clara could feel her heart pounding away deep inside her as a nervous flutter began to pool around her abdomen. His eyes were so bright, staring at her with the eyes of someone who seemed completely entranced.

Clara reached out a hand to press against the side of the Doctor's face, her cool hands a sharp contrast to the warmth of his skin. Steadily (surprisingly), she reached out to brush a trace of the tomato paste that lingered by his lips away and returned her hand back to her lap.

They were both silent and poised for what seemed like eternity before she finally shook her head with slight embarrassment. "Sorry –sorry. There was just something on your face. It's off now."

It was only a few moments later before the Doctor came to, turning back to the wheel and gave a small, curt nod. "Right. Thanks for looking out for me."

The magic was over.


	8. Chapter 8

The Doctor had dropped her off at her flat at a relatively late time, the air getting frostier as the night progressed. They hadn't spoken as much in the ride back home; Clara realized when she bid the Doctor good-night. It could be because they were both full and content so they were probably sleepier.

Or her sudden brush against his face changed things between the two of them. Her stomach churned at the thought as she shook the thought out of her head. She'd rather not entertain the prospect that she scared off the man from her advances. And besides, it wasn't as if she tried to kiss him.

Even though Clara wanted to. But she had something known as self-control. "Did you want to come in and get a cuppa?" She offered suddenly as she stood with the door of the car half ajar. "I mean, it's late and I'd rather not have you falling asleep on the wheel." The Doctor shook his head.

"It's alright, I'm not that tired yet and it's not that far of a drive back to my place," He said. Smiling up to Clara, he added, "Thanks for the wonderful evening. And thanks for humoring your old student for a dinner."

Clara laughed. "Are you kidding me? This was a great night. It's been a while since I've enjoyed a good evening that didn't involve curling up with a book. So…thanks," She paused for a moment before shooting the Doctor a hopeful look. "And maybe we can do this again sometimes?"

She held her breath for his response and she felt a huge weight lift from her chest at his response. "Of course. Good night, Clara." He said with a small wave of his hands before she shut the door to the car and watched as he drove off in his blue car.

Somehow the cold didn't bother her as she stood, watching him drive back onto the streets and disappear off, leaving only when the darkness of the night enveloped his car. Shaking herself back to reality, she started to make her way back to her flat.

Clara Oswald was absolutely and utterly ruined.

* * *

><p>"Did you have a good evening?" Clara shot her head up so fast at the words that she felt her neck spasm from the sudden movement. Pain made her cry out and Danny almost instantly appeared by her side. "Are you okay?" His worried words made her grimace slightly as she batted his hand away.<p>

"Yes, I'm fine. Just pulled a muscle in my neck but," She stretched her neck from side to side. "I'm good now. And yes, my evening went well," She smiled brilliantly back towards the mathematics professor. "It went more than well."

Danny raised an eyebrow at her comment, flopping down on the chair in front of her. "Geez Clara. I thought you were the type to go on more than one date before you-"

"No!" Clara slammed her hand against the desk loudly, furiously shaking her head. "No no no, that didn't happen! I meant it just went better than I expected. I had the best Italian dinner I've ever tasted and had a great conversation. And that was it," She said with some finality. Danny only cocked an eyebrow but didn't ask any more questions.

"That's good to hear then. I was getting a bit worried that you'd always be sitting at home watching the telly if you had your way. Glad to hear that you managed to go out from time to time," He smiled warmly before adding, "So? Is this going to be a thing? You and this-who's the lucky fellow anyways? Do I know him?"

"It's not Walter before you ask," Clara said icily before she started to fidget with her hands. What could she say? It was easier to not think about the fact that yes, the Doctor was technically her student. Was this –whatever she wanted from the Doctor- even allowed? Even possible?

She had no idea but at the same time, she didn't want to know. Deciding not to tell Danny about the details, she started hesitantly, "It's…well. It's someone whom I met fairly recently. We have a lot of common interests although he's definitely had more of an exciting life. I still can't believe that he'd be willing to spend his time with me of all people."

"Well, you're an interesting person," Danny pointed out as he leaned forward in his seat. "Any guy would be lucky to be with you. I'm serious," His face grew sterner as Clara rolled her eyes. "You're amazing. Most guys are just too scared to ask you out on a date. Because you're out of their league."

"Well it's not as if I see people tripping over themselves in an effort to look at me," Clara responded back dryly. Danny shook his head. "That's not what I meant," He started. "But I don't think we'll get anywhere by going back and forth on this so we'll leave it at that. Anyways, so he seems interesting. And it's clear that you like him." Clara nodded at that. It was more difficult than she'd like to admit that she didn't have some inkling of a feeling for the Doctor. "So does he like you?"

She wanted to think that he did. After all, he did stop by as frequently as he could and they talked for hours upon hours. And after last night…

Or maybe it was just her heart speaking for her mind. She let out a low and quiet sigh. "I don't know. Maybe? And there are some complications. It's difficult and it's hard to explain. And plus, it's hard to judge because I don't know him very well." A note of frustration grew in her words. "Sometimes, I don't think it'll work out. It's impossible."

"Not yet." Danny added. "It's only been one date, right? Come on, maybe you'll learn more about him on the second one. Just see how things go." Danny grinned as he reached out to grasp Clara's hands tightly before giving a squeeze.

"He sounds like a great guy. And whatever complications you might have will work itself out eventually. It always does."

"And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it," Danny quoted.

Clara almost immediately let out a long groan of annoyance but it was clear that she wasn't too bothered by the smile on her face. "I still can't believe you just quoted that line at me." After all, miracles weren't something she believed in for a long time.

Danny shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever works. It's a good book." He gave her hands another squeeze. "Trust me on this."

"Clara, I was just about to-oh."

Clara froze at the sound of the voice, eyes shooting up to see the Doctor barge into her office holding two cups of tea in his hands. The Doctor seemed rooted to the ground, staring blankly at the image of her and Danny.

Or more specifically, of her holding Danny's hands. Clara quickly pulled her hands away from Danny's dropping them by her side, shooting an embarrassed glance to the Doctor. "Oh. Hello Doctor. This is uh, Danny Pink. He's from the mathematics faculty that's next to our building. And this is the Doctor, my…"

She paused, trying to search for the word. What word could she use? What word could she use that didn't scream to Danny that _this_ was the man that she was starting to think she was falling for?

"…Student."

It was the wrong thing to say. Almost instantly, his gaze cooled and he gave a nod of acknowledgement to Danny. "It's nice to meet you. I'd offer to shake your hand but my hands are currently occupied. Here," He plopped one of the cups in front of Clara although it seemed more like a slam. "Thought you might appreciate this."

"Oh…thanks," Clara said just at the exact moment Danny shot the Doctor a quizzical look. "Her student? You seem…matured." Inwardly, Clara groaned at his response –sometimes the man was awfully awkward. And not at the right times.

"I may be an older cracker but don't underestimate who I am. You should learn to respect your elders," The Doctor snapped back at Danny who frowned at the harsh response.

"Right…sorry about that, sir," Danny replied back and that response seemed to have irritated the Doctor even further.

"_Don't call me 'sir'_," The Doctor hissed back before he spun on his heels and left the room as quickly as he had entered. The whole encounter lasted maybe only moments but it was enough to rattle Clara as she watched him stalk out of the room. "Wait-!"

But it was too late. The damage was already done. He had already taken off and now this was going to be another nightmare to deal with.

Just when things were starting to go so well, it all came crashing down in the end. In the end, the universe never did try to make things right.


	9. Chapter 9

Clara felt the world around her spin softly as a growing sense of horror grew within her chest. Was that the end? The tea in her hands was steadily becoming lukewarm, its warmth evaporating away from the cup so easily. Her heart felt the same way.

"Clara? Is something the matter?" Danny's voice shook her out of her stupor and she glanced distractedly back at Danny. "Fine. Yeah, fine," She answered, although it didn't sound believable. No one ever said that they felt fine and meant it. It was clear that Danny didn't believe her for a second before his face grew even more confused and he followed her distracted gaze at the door.

"So…the Doctor? That's an odd name, is he actually called the Doctor?" Danny asked. "Bit of an uppity fellow. You sure he's one of your students? He seems, not to be rude or anything but, a bit old for taking your course."

Clara gave a small shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know why he's called the Doctor. But he prefers it to his real name so that's what I call him." It was almost unsettling just how little she really did know about the Doctor's life outside of what they've discussed. Now, looking back at it, it almost seemed superficial in nature. She knew that he was a doctor at some point, he travelled, and he enjoyed literature…

But what about why he was called the Doctor? It was a question she had never decided to look into it further and now she was beginning to regret not being as open to the idea of getting to know him earlier on in their relationship. "He's uh, ah…he's returning. Continuing education, I think," She added, "He said he used to be a physician but now he's decided to change career paths and learn something about literature and history." The answer seemed satisfactory to Danny as the man gave an approving nod. "Well, that's admirable," Danny said before his eyes darted to the cup. Which Clara was gripping a bit too tightly.

"Okay, you seem to know a lot about this Doctor," Danny began slowly, tapping his hand slowly against the desk. "And he regularly stops by and calls you by your first name." For a moment, Clara's heart beat loudly against her chest but it was clear that there was no way that Danny was going to stop his deductions.

"And he got you, what? Your favorite tea at this time of the day?" Danny leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. "Forgive me if I'm wrong but the Doctor is probably the lucky fellow who you went out for dinner with last night, isn't he?"

And the cat was out of the bag. Clara let out a tired sigh before nodding her head in agreement. "I didn't mean to get as close to him as I did now," She started out, defensively. "Really, I thought he acted like a show off in the beginning. And an absolute headache to deal with. But then he started coming by and talking about the books we were reading in class and next thing I knew it, it was as if he always came by for an afternoon chat. With tea and biscuits," Clara explained, sliding one of her drawers open to reveal packages of Jammie Dodgers trapped inside. Danny only raised an eye at her cookie selection and Clara shrugged her shoulders. "He's got a sweet tooth."

"So," Danny began, "He comes in now. Sees you holding my hands and decides that he was interrupting a lovely moment between the two of us. Even though we _definitely _aren't together." Clara grimaced. That sounded like an accurate summary. Danny looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered upon his own thoughts.

"You know, I'm pretty sure he likes you," Danny declared confidently and Clara blinked back the surprise in her expression. "Most guys, if they're not interested, probably wouldn't stalk off when they see the person they're attracted to with someone else."

"Or what if he thinks that I'm just fooling around with him? God –" Clara let out a tired sigh, rubbing her temples. "What am I thinking? I-I think I care a lot about him. I can't explain it but it feels as though I knew him before and that I've always appreciated who he was even with his stubborn and oddly demeaning personality. But the fact of the matter is, he's my student. Mine!" She groaned.

And that was the truth of it all. How could she ever be together with a student? She'd probably lose her position for this if she revealed it to anyone but Danny –not that she was planning to anytime soon. Danny was silent after her outburst before he shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. I think it'll be different and plus, I think it'll only be important if you're the one marking his assignments and work. That'll probably cause a conflict of interest so…if you wait until next semester, this mess should clear itself up. Besides, he definitely doesn't look like your average student on the campus." Sensing Clara's worried expression, Danny let out a sigh. "He's a grown man. And you're a grown woman. You're not abusing your authority and I highly doubt that you'll let your sense of justice get the better of you. If you're really worried about that problem, just keep it a secret for now until he's done your course. Problem solved," Danny waved away a hand. "Just say you met up at a book club. You two probably could have, to be honest. He seems to be the type."

"What's that supposedly to be?" Clara snapped back but there was no malice in her words. She could tell that Danny genuinely thought that her situation wasn't impossible. But it was easy for a third party like him to say it and plus, he always tried to be the reassuring friend. If she had brought this up with Dr. Simeon, well, she doubted the conversation would have gone so well.

"You need to stop being so high strung, Clara," Danny pointed out carefully. "Okay. Answer me this. What do you like about him so much?" Clara stared at Danny for a few long seconds as she fought to come up with a response.

It was…it was, she didn't even know. She liked being in control and the Doctor was a man who was unpredictable. But even so, the rare moments when she felt as if she had a handle on the situation, he was the one to give it to her. Even if it took a while. They just clicked and fit together like pieces of different puzzles yet they fit. And somehow or another, it made something new. Something wonderful.

"Because he's…he's just amazing," Clara spoke slowly. "Because sometimes he shows me wonders and makes me feel things I haven't felt in a long time. Not since…," Her voice drifted off and Danny interrupted quickly.

"Okay. So that's a good thing, right?' Danny said gently. "If he's worth it, then forget about the fact that he's your student. Because to you, he's more than just a student to you."

_"The Doctor, he's my….student." _

And only then did Clara's eyes widen in horror at how she had introduced the Doctor. She had fumbled and tried to come up with the best, respectable answer in the situation out of sheer panic and in doing so, made the situation worse. They weren't together, not at all, but at the very least, she could have called him his friend. So what if they had only known each other for three months? But introducing him as her student must have made him felt as if he was just another face in the sea of undergraduates; no one of importance. Someone forgettable.

Clara let out another long-winded sigh. "Danny. _Please _tell me how I can fix this."

Danny raised an eyebrow at her request. "I'm not sure I know how I can help." Clara shook her head, "No. Come on, you must know something. You're the one always handing me advice!" Now it was Danny's turn to let out an exasperated sigh as he waved his hand off to the side.

"Just show him who you are."

"But he knows who I am."

"Does he really?"

And those three words made Clara fall silent for a long time.

* * *

><p>"Doctor!" Clara called out just as the class was shuffling out. "Can you come up here, please? "The man didn't even try to glance back towards the front at her voice and he looked as if he was ready to bolt out of the room. Of course, he would've if it weren't for Amy who had prodded him in the shoulder and gestured to where Clara was standing in the front.<p>

Even from this distance, she could tell that he was scowling loudly but luckily, the Scottish women matched his temperament and more. Within minutes, he had grudging trudged towards the front of the lecture hall with both Amy and Rory watching him to ensure he didn't try and run away.

Clara tried to give him something that resembled a friendly smile but it was clear that he was trying to avoid her gaze, shuffling distractedly in front of her. "Yes, Dr. Oswald? What's the matter? I do hope you're asking me about something of a more academic nature given that I'm in a rush." The title stung her for a second but Clara quickly tried to recover. It was clear that he was still bitter over what happened a few days ago. She was less anxious about it, although that was because she had already thought long and hard about what she wanted to say. Brushing it aside, Clara reached out to grab the man's hand to catch his attention.

"It's just the two of us. Clara's fine," Clara insisted as the Doctor let out a small grunt. "I prefer calling you Dr. Oswald. Seems only right given that I'm your _student_, aren't I?"

Clara shook her head. "No, listen. I'm sorry about what happened a few days ago about that. I honestly think of you as more than my student." That got his head to shoot up fast as he quickly met her eyes. "Besides, you're eons ahead of every other student in this class in terms of the material. I feel as though you could probably teach the class yourself if you spent more times with the books." That stroked his ego because a small smile danced on the Doctor's lips before he quickly squashed it down to his familiar scowl. "You're my friend, Doctor," Clara said gently. "I do really care for you. And I apologize for not giving you the recognition you deserve last time. But I corrected it with Danny, I promise."

"So you told your boyfriend that I'm your friend. Great, that makes it all better," The Doctor said with a roll of his eyes and Clara shot him a confused expression. "Boyfriend? Danny? Oh no, no way. We're not," She laughed. "Listen, we're not together. We're close mates because we started together when we got our positions at this university. And it's nice to get a fresh perspective on things even if I don't understand any of the maths he sprouts out of his mouth." It felt good to clear things up and it was even better when Clara caught the Doctor straightening up slightly, his entire demeanor changing to that of curiosity after her explanation.

"Oh so. You're just friends," He started. Clara nodded rapidly. "Just friends. Good friends that gossip together. I'm trying to set him up with this girl I used to know right now. I feel as though they'd make quite a pair." The Doctor chuckled. "Why am I not surprised? You seem to be the sort to try and set up people. A bit of a control freak are you?"

"I am not a control freak," Clara retorted back as the Doctor raised his hands up in mock surrender. "Whatever you say, boss." Yet he had begun to smile easier and his shoulders had grown less tense. Funnily enough, Clara thought that she felt the same way and she smiled even brighter. It was nice to be back to their old bantering. Maybe Danny was right and that just being who she was made things possible.

"Actually…I was a bit skeptical that you two were dating once you told me he was a mathematics professor," The Doctor admitted, her words drawing Clara out of her thoughts. "You don't seem to be the sort to fall in love with a math professor. You don't seem very…mathy." Clara cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, I like making a variety of friends. I associate myself with anyone and everyone. Even people like you in fact," She teased before shrugging her shoulders. "Besides, isn't it the same with you? I frankly didn't imagine that you knew Dr. Song at some point." The Doctor chuckled in amusement at her words.

"Yes, we were an odd pair," He agreed. "River and I never really figured each other out that well either. Sometimes it felt as if we met at different time points in our lives. She's a real…character."

Clara cocked an eyebrow. "You two were together?" She asked innocently enough although it was a question she was begging to get answered. Although it didn't seem as though it was one that the Doctor was comfortable in sharing because right away he had begun sheepishly looking away.

"You could call it that," He admitted. "We are-were married. Not anymore."

And the penny dropped. Clara's eyes widened in surprise as she gaped at the man. That was something she hadn't been expecting in the slightest and it must've showed on her face because the Doctor hastily tried to fix his wording.

"No! I mean, yes, we were married. We're…not really married anymore. It was hard because I was in different countries with the MSF and then she was teaching here." He paused for a moment, shifting uncomfortably. "And then when I decided to move here indefinitely, she decided she wasted enough of her time waiting around for me and decided to head out in the world. So that ended with me staying here and her deciding to travel across the world."

"I'm….sorry to hear that," Clara said quietly. But even as her mouth moved to try and reassure the Doctor, she was still stunned into shock by his confession. He was married? "Wait, what do you mean by married-ish? You…aren't wearing your ring though?"

The Doctor glanced at his hands for a second before shaking his head, "Well, we agreed to a divorce a few months ago. Well, she brought up the idea a few months ago. We've yet to really…officially sign the papers and get it all sorted yet. Between her work and travels and my endless stream of assignments –no thanks to you- it's been hard trying to find time to sort out the legal issue."

"Right…right," Clara nodded slowly, trying to absorb all of the information at once. She must've failed because there was still confusion deep in her eyes as she shook her head. It was going to be a lot to process. It made sense why he wouldn't step out of his way to announce this, let alone to her.

She might've not known who River Song was personally but she _knew_ the professor. And the fact that both the Doctor and her were married –still married legally too- made something inside of her churn slightly. Jealously?

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" Clara blurted out suddenly, much to the Doctor's confusion. "I mean –come to dinner with me. I owe you that at least."

Perhaps it was the earnest expression on her face or maybe it showed in the persistence in her words. Either way, the Doctor gave her an appraising glance for a few moments before responding.

"Yes ma'am."


	10. Chapter 10

She had a habit of biting her nails whenever she was stressed. Or anxious. Or whatever. Right now, she was busily pacing the hallway in her flat, waiting for the arrival of one Doctor. She had given him a call later in the evening yesterday to ask him where he wanted to go for dinner. And that's where he admitted that he wouldn't mind a home cooked meal.

So that's how she ended up in the situation she was in currently. She let out a sigh as she circled back towards the kitchen where the vegetables were still being steamed on the stove top. Luckily, she had prepared the rest of the meal earlier, some veal medallions, so all that was left was to grill the meat and serve the vegetables. Easy enough, right? Everything was set on the table, there was some classic music playing in the living room to give a nice atmosphere…

The only thing missing was some candles and then it would really be a candle-lit dinner; she smiled wryly to herself before giving her face a sharp slap. No, she can't jump to conclusions like that.

It was then that the doorbell chose to ring and she might've sprinted for the door, opening it up to reveal the Doctor, standing just a tad awkwardly in front of her door. "Doctor!" Clara exclaimed, ushering him into her home. "Thank goodness you found this place. Hope it wasn't too hard to find?" He had shed her coat and placed it on an offered coat hanger. "I managed. Your directions were quite good; the flat near the grocery store with the bee. That helped. Your place is…," He paused for a moment to look around him carefully. "Very nice. Thank you for inviting me over."

"Make yourself comfortable," Clara said, gesturing to the couches. "Did you want something to drink? Or eat now, are you hungry?" The Doctor took a moment to respond before he gave a sheepish nod. "Bit ravenous. Oh, I got you this," He procured a wine bottle from a package he held and passed it over. "We can have it with the meal."

"Wow, nice pair," Clara murmured, taking the wine before she started to backtrack into the kitchen. "Alright well, we can eat then. Dinner will be ready in just a tick."

* * *

><p>Before long, the empty dinner table was now comfortably filled with plates of food and the two of them sitting opposite to each other on the table. She waited carefully to see his expression as he bit into the food and was relieved when he murmured his approval.<p>

"With the food and the wine…," The Doctor started slowly as he took a sip from his glass, glancing around the room slightly. "I sort of expected some candles lit up around here." A flush crept onto Clara's face at his remark and she quickly ducked her head down to pick up some of the vegetables.

"Steady boy," Clara teased. "You're sounding desperate." Now it was the Doctor's turn to stutter and fumble around for words blindly, embarrassment causing the tips of his ears to turn bright pink. "I-I never-shut up." He grumbled finally before turning back to the food. Clara grinned at his antics; it never ceased to amaze her when she did get the ability to completely shut up the Doctor. He had always been one to talk in classes, even when it was the most irrelevant matter to discuss but the past few months had given her a chance to hone her ability to quiet the Doctor.

"So…yesterday. You're still married, yeah?" Clara asked, offhandedly. Their conversation had bothered her just a bit and she was genuinely curious as to what sort of relationship the two of them had. It didn't seem as if there was any time for the two of them to ever see each other.

"Well, not really. We're fully committed to ending it, just need to get some paperwork in. I'm contacting my lawyer about it soon, hopefully we'll be divorced by the end of this year," The Doctor replied. The way he talked about it seemed almost distant, as if he was just talking about taxes or whatever. Clara merely nodded her head, "Seems like you two are sorting it out fairly well. And adjusting to it better than expected."

"We didn't really think our relationship, marriage, could last as long as it did. We've been married for maybe twenty years? But really, we've barely seen each other in the past ten. Somehow, the thought never fazed either of us about trying to end it," He shrugged his shoulders. "But it's good that we're finally setting it straight. It makes things easier."

Clara smiled gently. It really did change the game, did it? She had been worried in the beginning that the possibility that Dr. Song was still in the picture wasn't going to bode well for her. She didn't think she was the type to try and get caught in the crossfires of a marriage that really was something she wanted to avoid at all costs. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of her to be happy that the two of them were getting a divorce but –she wasn't going to reveal it to anybody.

Glancing down at their plates, now empty, Clara leapt up to her feet. "Alright! Now for the highlight of the meal, the desert! I'll be right back with it," She announced as she made her way into the kitchen.

Except as soon as she reached the oven, she let out a cry of disappointment. It must've caught the Doctor's attention because next thing she knew, there was some noises from the dining table before the Doctor came bustling into the kitchen, a look of worry in his expression. "What's wrong? What happened? Did you start a fire?"

Clara let out a groan as she took out the two deflated soufflés from the oven. They were slightly charred around the edges too, she frowned. Probably needed more butter. "No…just failed my eighty-fifth attempt at making a soufflé. I swear I got the recipe right this time!" She grumbled out bitterly as she gingerly picked up the two. Looks like these were going to be added to the list of failures, she sighed in disappointment before making her way to the trash can.

She would've reached it if it weren't for the Doctor stopping her in her tracks. "What are you doing? They're perfectly good soufflés to me," The Doctor said, bemusement in his expression. "Here, let me try one," He fished out a spoon from the drying rack before scooping a part of the chocolate soufflé into his mouth before Clara could protest.

Chewing thoughtfully, he nodded his head. "It's good, Clara. Sure it's a little burnt but the inside is moist. Here," He spooned another part out of the soufflé before he pushed the spoon past Clara's unexpecting lips. There was a chocolate-y flavor bouncing in the taste as Clara accepted the spoon, eating her own creation carefully. There was a definite burning taste but it didn't completely overwhelm the chocolate. Maybe it wasn't as bad of a failure as she thought, she mulled as she watched the Doctor eat up an entire soufflé by himself.

"It was good. You baked it for me so I thought it was delicious," He admitted much to Clara's laughter. "Or maybe you're just saying that because you're my student and you want to win favor with your professor," She teased him gently, giving him a sharp nudge on the side. But his words were much appreciated.

"I…I always try baking a soufflé. My mum used to make it for me all the time before she died," Her face fell for a moment at the thought but Clara continued her story. "She never did get to teach me how she perfected her recipe before she died. So I've been trying to make it from her books. It's still something I'm working on."

The Doctor smiled. "The fact that you're still trying is admirable. I'm sure that your mum was a great person. And she would probably be glad to know that you're still trying." Clara looked back up to the Doctor, meeting his gaze and found nothing but sincerity and compassion within them.

Somehow, that made her heart skip just a beat faster. As he reached in for the other soufflé to finish, Clara didn't waste a single second in pulling the Doctor down to her level by the lapels of his shirt and placing her lips against his.

There was a burnt chocolate aroma in his lips and somehow, she felt as though it was a taste that she could very well be addicted too. Luckily for her, it seemed like the Doctor had the same idea as her. Letting go of the spoon, his arms were quickly wrapped tightly around her body, pulling her closer to him. They could kiss deeper and it wasn't a kiss that was going to end anytime soon.

When they finally pulled away for air, Clara flickered her gaze up to meet his. There was nothing but pure adoration in his gaze. "I thought-wasn't sure-didn't think because, I'm your-," The Doctor began to ramble and Clara quickly leaned in to kiss him again. That shut him up quickly as he kissed her back, wrapping one hand close to the base of her neck to tilt her head up for better access.

Another way to shut up the Doctor. And a way she rather enjoyed.


	11. Chapter 11

_It was cold. Freezing almost. She couldn't feel the tips of her fingertips; it felt as if her entire hand had fallen off. A sudden wave of panic washed over her as she tried to warm them up, breathing hotly against her hands. Please please please-_

_Except no matter how much she tried to warm them, it was to no avail. If anything, she made it worse. Instead of warming them, her breath had frozen over her hands, ghosting over them to coat them in a layer of ice. With growing horror, she watched the ice begin to slowly crack. And then she watched as her entire hand shattered, gushes of blood streaming out of the stump-_

Clara woke up. Sweat clung to her body as she tried to catch her breath, harried as it was. She kicked off the bed sheets off of her body quickly; it was getting too sticky to be under them at this time.

Just a nightmare. She thought to herself as she peeked down at her hands which were perfectly normal. As they should be. Clara took a steadying breath as she tried to ease herself into a sitting position on the bed, noticing offhandedly the smell of eggs and bacon.

Wait.

She turned her head to where the smell was wafting in from her door that was slightly ajar. If she listened closely enough, she could hear the sizzle on the stovetop and a whistling from the kitchen. Memories came flooding back of the previous night, memories of the Doctor and her moving rapidly from the kitchen to her bedroom. The soufflé being forgotten and nothing else really mattered besides the two of them.

In retrospect, that was probably one of the most impulsive decisions she ever made. Clara let out an inward groan as she rubbed her temples, feeling a headache being to erupt behind her ears. No –she wanted the Doctor. It was hard not to have feelings for the man who had always tried to goad her into learning more about everything related to literature and who was incredibly interesting to talk with. And now, after last night, it was clear that he reciprocated those same feelings.

Except that didn't change the fact that she was still his professor. And he was her _bloody_ student, regardless if he was mature or not. There were probably laws against sleeping with a student, she groaned inwardly, burying her face into the bed sheets. Laws that would screw her future career if anyone found out. Regardless of whatever Danny had told her a few nights ago; it wasn't exactly professional to form a relationship with someone whose work you were grading. _They needed to talk about it_, Clara realized with growing horror at the exact moment the Doctor had appeared in the doorway carrying two plates heaped with breakfast food.

The sight of him, dressed casually in his loose shirt, almost made her lose all of her previous thoughts. Her nightmare was but a shadow in the corner of her mind as a smile stretched across her face when she saw him.

The Doctor smiled back warmly, reaching to hand a plate towards her. "Breakfast? You seemed happy asleep so I just left you. Thought you might be hungry though so I rummaged through your kitchen. Came up with this –you're running low on eggs. How many soufflés do you normally make?" He cocked an eyebrow just as Clara let out a groan.

"I don't only bake soufflés," She retorted as she dug into her breakfast, jabbing at the egg with her fork. "I can bake other things too. They're just more special." The Doctor chuckled lowly in amusement but he didn't say a word in response. They continued eating in silence, the Doctor having hopped back onto the bed to sit right next to Clara; his body brushing past her arm ever so often.

The thought had circulated back into Clara's mind and she let out an inaudible sigh, turning to her side to face the Doctor. "Listen, about last night-"

"Was it a mistake?" He must've picked up on her tone because he answered back so curtly that it shocked even her. His face was devoid of any expression but it was clear he was holding something back. Hurt?

"No!" Clara cried, shaking her head. "It wasn't a mistake. I wasn't, no I don't regret last night, with us. It was…right," She drawled out her words carefully before shooting the Doctor a glance. "Regardless of the circumstances, I don't regret it. I promise you that, Doctor." Her response must have been reassuring because the tension in his shoulders had eased up and he gave her a small nod in response. "Okay," He answered back softly. "So this is about something else?"

Clara let out a frustrated sigh. "It's just…you're still my student. We still have a month or so left of classes and it's not as if I can hand over my grading to someone else," She paused, wishing that she had gotten the foresight to find a TA for the class.

"So we'll just keep it a secret until I'm not taking your class," The Doctor answered back calmly, waving a hand aside. To him, it wasn't a large issue. "I'd drop them but to be perfectly frank, I'm living off our own discussions. The other professors in your department are either as odd as Dr. Simeon or too bland. You're perfect."

A flush crossed Clara's face at his compliment as she ducked her head down. "Well, I'm glad that dropping isn't an option for you. Because it really isn't." That much, she had decided upon. "How can you say it so calmly? Keeping it a secret?" The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it's only a month. A month before I'm not your student anymore and just someone that you used to know." His eyes grew nostalgic for a fraction of a second before he snapped back to his usual smile. "It also helps that I'm going grey."

Clara snorted. "Yeah, you'll definitely look like a cranky gray fox if you had your way." She still wasn't completely on board with the idea of keeping their relationship a secret, she was certain to get panic attacks at any indication that somebody was going to find out, but it was the only option they had. The other one was…

"Do you…did you even want for this? Us?" She asked quietly.

The Doctor fixed her with a gentle look; one that reminded her of the way he had looked at her the night before. It still made her legs feel like jelly, and she could feel warmth pooling in her chest that this was the look that _he_ was giving her.

"More than anything," He replied back. "If you'll….have me." The Doctor reached out at that moment to pull Clara's hand to place against his chest, right against where his heart was beating. "If I had two hearts, I would have given both of them to you. But I have just one." The flush had grown on Clara's face even more as she turned her head away, the look he was giving her making it far too difficult to form a coherent sentence together.

"Alright," She decided finally before craning her neck forward to give him a quick peck on the lips just as one arm of his had begun to weave its way around her waist.

"We'll make this possible."

It was odd considering that nothing had changed much when they had returned to their lives at the university. Clara still lectured, the novel this time being Pride and Prejudice, and the Doctor still interrupted the class every few minutes to point out an aspect of the novel he had opinions about. They acted the way they normally did, with the same banter they shot back and forth between the classes that no one was ever the wiser.

Or maybe everyone knew that they had something together. (Or maybe Clara was just reading too much into the looks Amy was shooting her at the end of class when the Doctor came up to "ask a question")

The only thing that did change, thankfully, was the Doctor had stopped showing up to office hours and rather appeared at every possible odd hour. He came bearing gifts, generally tea with the occasional biscuit but then he had started bringing actual meals to the office for the two of them to share. It was nice to experience different cuisines, and Clara had been a little bit more overjoyed than she should've been when the lasagna from the Italian restaurant had been specially delivered. When Clara asked how the Doctor managed to get them to deliver, he had just winked and said that it was his little secret.

Luckily, every time the Doctor dropped by, he had closed and locked the door behind him. That ensured they weren't disturbed in their quiet moments together. Well, moments that weren't very quiet if she was being perfectly honest.

"Why are you called the Doctor?" Clara asked out of the blue as she was finishing up responding to the frantic e-mails that were sent by her students. The deadline for the final paper was coming up and it seemed like many had put it off to the last minute; and had no idea where to begin. It was a huge headache on her part because it wasn't as if she didn't want her students to fail her class but at the same time, she was disappointed at the ones who had put it off to the last minute. But that didn't stop her from offering help to them. It was nice to know that the Doctor wasn't one of them and it didn't seem as if he wanted her assistance in any shape or form, he had been quite tight-lipped about his assignment.

Right now, he was lounging in the chair right next to her –he had moved the one across her desk to sit closer to her side- and was leaning against her shoulder as he read a novel that had been assigned for reading. At her question, he pulled himself off of her shoulder and looked at her with a quizzical expression on his face.

"What did you say?"

"I asked why you're called the Doctor," Clara prompted. "I never asked and…I'm just curious. It's okay if you don't want to tell me, I mean, it's just to sate my own curiosity. Why not Dr. Smith or…?" The Doctor stayed silent for a few moments longer before he answered back with a small nod of his head.

"No, it's no trouble. Well, I was called John when I was a kid. But then I got a growth spurt early on so I was taller than most kids in my class," He shrugged his shoulders. "And I started being called Long John instead which was incredibly irritating. Didn't like the name but the nickname stuck with me for a while. I loathed it," He frowned. "And so I wanted to get rid of my name. It was too common and I always found the idea of choosing your own name to be romantic. It's like you're making a promise to yourself of who you aspire to be."

He let out an embarrassed chuckle before continuing. "Even when I was young, I wanted to help others. My aunt was really kind; she was a neurosurgeon and an incredibly accomplished one. So when I was a kid, she introduced me to working in a hospital and helping out the patients that came to see her. That's when I decided that I wanted to become a doctor just like her." He shrugged his shoulders, "And then I boldly announced that because that was my dream, I wanted to be referred to as the Doctor. So I would never, ever forget it. And it ended up coming true in the end," The Doctor smiled. "And it worked out. Got rid of the boring, useless one and got a better one in the end. One that promises never to be cruel or cowardly and to always aid those in need. Like the Hippocratic Oath."

Listening to his story, Clara couldn't help but smile tenderly. She could almost envision a young version of the Doctor running around in the hospital in his haste to help those around him. Somehow, she could imagine the man being more hyperactive and bursting with energy in his youth. Not that he wasn't energetic, she could attest to that at least. "Thank you," She said with genuine warmth in her voice. "For sharing." She leaned forward to press her lips against his which he eagerly accepted. Soon enough, his hands were cupping the back of her neck and her own fingers had nestled its way in his fluff of grey hairs.

"Hey Dr. Oswald, do you have a –oh." The two of them snapped back to their seats as if they had just been burned and both turned at the same time to see who had entered the room.

"Pond!" The Doctor acknowledged sheepishly as the blond haired boy shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot and looked like he was willing himself to blend into the walls. Clara shot the Doctor a look of confusion –that wasn't Amy Pond- and the Doctor waved a hand aside.

"Pond. Er well, Rory Williams. But Amy's got him wrapped up around in her little finger so I've been calling him Pond for short." The Doctor explained quickly to Clara before turning his eyes back at Rory, scowling. "Why are you here?"

Rory must have been uncomfortable being in the receiving end of the glare because he let out an audible squeak before shaking his head," I'm just here to ask Dr. Oswald a question about the assignment! And when I tried the door, it was unlocked so…"

Clara let out a sigh. "Maybe you should try knocking next time, Mr. Williams." A flurry of apologies escaped him suddenly and Clara couldn't help but take pity upon the boy. She remembered him being in Amy's shadow constantly, but he seemed nice enough. Williams was a name that often did relatively well on the assignments she gave out. "Just remember that for next time. Anyways, what can I help you with?"

"I can-uh, come back a later time? During office hours, it's not that urgent," Rory insisted, already trying to weasel his way out of the room. "I mean, since the two of you seem busy. I don't want to-I think Amy needs me for something. So I can come back? And uh, I'll lock the door for you from the inside." Clara didn't get a chance to protest before he had locked the door and closed it shut, leaving the two of them in absolute silence.

When she turned her head to look at the Doctor, whose hair was tussled and she could only imagine the same look she was wearing, he merely gave a shrug of his shoulders.

"At least it was Pond and not another student."

For that remark, Clara gave him a sharp jab in the shoulder.


	12. Chapter 12

After Rory had caught them, they had decided to forego their usual meetings in her office. Or at least, forego meeting until the semester was over and she was officially not his professor any more. Instead, they decided to spend their weekends together as often as they could. But as they couldn't risk having other people in the community see their interactions, their outings were few and far between. Most of the time, they ended up staying home, or in Clara's case, _her _home.

Not that she really minded as she liked the change of pace. It was nice to have a quiet evening to oneself but sharing it with someone else was just as nice. If better, in fact, Clara couldn't remember the last time that she got into heated debates with someone who could match her head on. It sent a thrill running down her spine and the excitement extended to the bedroom.

_It was nice_, she realized one morning, turning her head to see the Doctor still dead to the world. Somehow, her nightmares had grown less frequent, the more time she spent with him. It wasn't entirely explainable, but the man had some sort of ability to comfort her. It was reassuring to know that there was someone by her side, is that why people got into relationships? And fell in love? No matter how many books she read or the papers she wrote, the concept of finding someone to spend the rest of your days with was…mostly unimaginable to her, even with her imagination.

Yet looking at the Doctor, she wondered if she found that person.

"What are you looking at?"

The Doctor's sleepy mumble shook her from her thoughts and she jolted slightly, looking down to see his drooping eyes staring right at her. It was such a hilarious expression that Clara couldn't help but laugh. She reached forward to poke the man squarely in the nose despite his protest before snuggling in even closer to him. He obliged as the initial haziness of sleep escaping him and he wrapped his arms firmly around her.

"I knew you would do me good in some way, at some time: I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you; their expression and smile did not strike delight to my inmost heart so for nothing," She quoted quietly, her voice nothing more than a mere whisper. But she knew he could hear her because his arms squeezed her tightly, caringly. Warmly.

* * *

><p>Once finals had begun, the times she could spend with the Doctor grew fewer and fewer. He was busy, he was still a student regardless of how he looked, and since they couldn't exactly meet in public without arousing suspicion, they had decided to wait until after the semester was over to see each other again.<p>

But it was one thing to agree to take a break and another to actually live through it. His absence felt like an open wound to Clara, and there were times when she had spotted him in the crowd and just wished that she could just run straight up to him and fling her arms around him. Show the whole world that he was her's, and she was his. It was hard enough to control her urges sometimes but the fear of losing her job –and his status of a student, it stopped her.

Somehow.

_At the very least, they could still call each other and the sound of his voice on the other end of the line was just enough to satisfy her_, she realized to herself as she tidied up the stack of graded papers. It was only a few more weeks. And then, it didn't even matter if anyone found out.

Except it really couldn't have been that easy.

The moment she left her office, locking it for the night, a voice startled her from the other end of the hall. Turning her head, she glanced up to see Walter Simeon stride quickly towards her. She tried to flash a warm smile but it definitely didn't reach the other professor –the same cold, calculated look remained on his face even as he got closer to her.

"Dr. Oswald," He began slowly as he approached her, giving a slight nod of his head as a sign of greeting. "How are you doing? Any plans for the evening?"

Clara gave a forced smile. "No, not tonight. I have some more essays to grade before marks go in. What about yourself?"

"A quiet evening," He agreed before gesturing her to follow him down the hall. "I have something I wanted to speak to you about…would you mind if I took a moment of your time?"

Already, Clara could feel her defenses coming up. Somehow, any discussion with Walter didn't seem like a good idea. "No, not a problem," She lied. "What's on your mind?"

Walter was quiet for a few moments before he reached into his jacket to pull out a piece of paper, handing it to Clara silently. When Clara took it, her eyes immediately latched onto the photo of the Doctor that was on the paper. Immediately, a feeling of dread began to settle in her stomach and it was only confirmed by his next words.

"John Smith, do you know him?" Walter questioned and Clara gave a small and hopefully nonchalant nod. "Oh yes. He's in my class, the 19th century British Literature that I teach. What about him?"

Walter fixed her with a hard glance and it was hard not to look away, but she couldn't risk exposing herself. Especially not to someone like him. "I've…often noticed that he visits your office hours. I frequently pass by the hall to teach and he's always up here. Never understood why, he seems smart enough not to require any further assistance. And he always seems to bring two drinks when he comes. "

"Well, he's quite interested in the novels we read in class," Clara responded carefully. "Sometimes what we learn in class isn't enough so he comes by to ask some additional questions. Merely out of interest, of course. And he's a gentleman so he brings me tea as gratitude. "

"Interest, you say…" Walter seemed more and more suspicious as the older man cocked his head to one side. "Perhaps, interests outside of the course you're teaching? Perhaps…involving things of a more delicate matter?"

Clara stopped. No, this had gone on for too long. She frowned sharply as she looked up at the professor. "What exactly are you implying here? I really don't see where this conversation is-"

"Are you, perhaps, having a relationship with Mr. Smith?" He didn't waste time getting to the chase. "That would be…disgraceful, if it were true. I only ask because I've realized how...things have changed. At one point, I could hear his voice from your office from a distance. And now...it seemed to have quieted down. And the door is more often than not, locked." Walter gave a raised eyebrow at Clara. An accusatory one. "And there was one time when I recognized Mr. Williams coming into your office…before running off in a hurry. I wonder why that happened?"

Shit.

She was slowly getting backed into a corner. Clara tried not to let her discomfort show, trying to keep a painfully blank expression after listening to his accusations. "I don't really understand what you're getting at," Clara started simply. "A relationship? With my student –do you think I'm the type?" She crossed her arms. "Mr. Smith is an excellent student and he poses a lot of challenging and insightful questions. That's all I know about him. Mr. Williams had left in a hurry because he had forgotten to bring something that he wanted to show me. He stopped by afterwards, if you had continued to spy on me, to show me his work."

Turning the tables was a good idea and one that Simeon didn't expect. He seemed stunned into silence, it didn't seem like his spying provided anything more that he could use. "What are you trying to do?" Clara demanded to know. What was his game? What was he playing at –did he want to get her fired?

Or was there something else that he wanted from her?

Walter shook his head. "Ah….perhaps I was just mislead. I just wanted to confirm that there wasn't anything between the two of you. That would be highly unprofessional after all. I'm glad to hear that my suspicions were mistaken. Apologies for the accusations, I was just trying to ensure that the academic code of conduct was followed."

He didn't look sorry at all, Clara thought to herself before she was distracted by his sudden interest in something behind her. Curiously, she turned her own head and it took everything in her not to let out a shocked gasp.

River Song.

Except it wasn't the reappearance of the old professor that caught her attention but the fact that she was in an embrace with none other than the Doctor himself. They seemed intimate; his arms were wrapped tightly around her waist although she couldn't see his face from the distance. There was a murmur of some words before Dr. Song had leaned forward to kiss the Doctor.

And he didn't resist. If anything, he leaned into it even further.

"Perhaps there really was nothing between the two of you. Have a good evening, Dr. Oswald," Walter spoke after looking away from the scene. Clara found that it was difficult to look away and once she did break her gaze from the scene, she could only mumble a half-hearted goodbye before walking away.

She didn't know what to say. There were no more words left in her.


End file.
